


only sleeping, maybe dreaming

by ailurish



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, bittersweet angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailurish/pseuds/ailurish
Summary: When Riku finds Sora in the dream city, he's living a normal life without the keyblade - or any of his memories. Together, they learn that bonds of he heart aren't so easily broken.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61
Collections: Re⊕Collect: A Soriku Fic Collection





	only sleeping, maybe dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the artist Aurora, who provides this explanation of her song _Under Stars_ :
> 
> "It’s about us. About the people we’ve lost through time, and how we handle that loss. The guilt of still being alive when they are not, and the hope that they might only be sleeping, maybe still dreaming, under the stars."

Riku finds Sora more easily each night. This time, he spots him sitting on the bottom steps of a walking bridge staircase, idly rolling his skateboard back and forth with the toe of his shoe. He’s holding an ice cream cone in one hand and uses the other to wave Riku over excitedly.

“Here! I got you one,” he says once Riku is in range, revealing a paper bowl of ice cream and fruit, two wafers set into the center scoop in a familiar silhouette. It’s a detail that’s no longer surprising to Riku. Sora may not remember Mickey, nor should anyone in this city know of the King, but it’s there nonetheless. There’s even a paper strip around Sora’s ice cream cone dotted with lucky emblems, but Sora doesn’t take notice. He hands over Riku’s ice cream, a warm brush of fingers in the midst of hand-off, and if Sora’s cheeks are pink when he sits down again, Riku blames it on the colors of the falling sun.

“Thanks, Sora. How did you know I’d be here?”

Sora shrugs, taking a large bite out of his ice cream even though the cone is meant to be enjoyed slowly. Some things never change, Riku thinks, picking up the spoon settled into his own bowl and digging in. “You always come,” Sora replies. They watch the sunset and eat in silence for a few minutes, only a car passing here and there, far-off silhouettes of people wandering the shops.

“You know, that’s not actually true.”

Sora looks askance at Riku, chasing some melted ice cream that’s escaped over the rim of the cone with his tongue. “Huh? What’s not true?”

“I’m not here every night.”

“Oh.”

“More and more though, lately.”

“Is that a good sign, do you think?”

Master Yen Sid thinks it’s a sign that Sora knows he’s in danger. Riku doesn’t have an easy time explaining the dreams once he’s awake, so it’s hard to describe to the others how completely blank Sora’s memory is. He doesn’t seem to be aware that _anything_ is wrong. Not even Riku explaining keyblades and darkness, worlds and hearts and Nobodies, had shaken him. Sora is easygoing by nature, sure, but he’s not immune to distress.

“We don’t know,” Riku tells him truthfully. “Probably.”

Fairy Godmother thinks Sora’s heart is calling to his. Riku had tried to explain to her the old Master’s theory, that if Sora dreams of danger, it would be only natural to connect with a Dream Eater. But she’d only worn that knowing smile of hers and kept her comments to herself. Regardless, Riku knows he would follow Sora’s heart’s call no matter the reason.

“Well, for me it’s every night. Maybe time is different here than in the Tower of Mysteries.”

“The Mysterious Tower. And where is _here_ , exactly?”

Sora pops the remaining point of his cone into his mouth, squinting in thought as he chews. Instead of answering, he leans over and plucks the cherry out of Riku’s ice cream.

“Hey,” Riku protests. “I was saving that, you know.”

“No way,” Sora deadpans, having wasted no time eating his stolen prize. “You _never_ eat them.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I just know.”

With each passing dream, Riku takes further notice of something odd about this world. Sora manages to avoid direct questions about his life, more content to hear about Riku’s day, about the people who must seem to Sora like nothing more than story characters. Riku has no clues about this world’s location. He’d searched for information back in the real world and asked Sora’s traveling companions, but the only large city that Donald and Goofy say they’ve visited was San Fransokyo. This was definitely not San Fransokyo. Why would Sora be dreaming about a place he’s never visited?

And a dream it is, that much is certain. Having been in the sleeping realm himself, Riku knows how very real it is, but that time he and Sora had been separated. Now, they’re together.

After his visit to Radiant Garden, Fairy Godmother had sat him down at Merlin’s strange tea table and taken his hands with a patient touch. She had taught him how to seek out the edges of a dream, how belief was a kind of magic he could use like any other. Each night Riku could feel Sora, closer and closer, the dream clearer, the city more familiar. And finally, he’d crashed right into what he was looking for.

Or rather, Sora had crashed into _him_ , riding his skateboard down the street and directly into Riku, who had frozen in disbelief at the sight of those messy spikes. They both ended up in a heap on the ground. Sora recovered first, scrambling to his feet; a sweater tied around his waist and had gotten twisted into the strap of his backpack, and he’d laughed while untangling them.

“Sorry! Ah, my bad, I wasn’t really paying attention. You’re not hurt right? Did you break anything?”

“Sora,” Riku had managed to say, just the one word unsticking his lungs and allowing him to breathe again, and somehow this had struck Sora dumb. He was wearing an outfit similar to the school uniforms back home: loose tie and dark colored slacks, which Sora had rolled up to his calves, along with the khaki colored sweater. His brows were knit together in confusion.

“Do we... know each other? Oh! Maybe you’re in my class? I’m kinda new here so I don’t know everyone yet,” and then, muttering, “I think...”

It wasn’t the first time Sora had looked at Riku without recognition, but that had been expected. That had been the goal. The relief of seeing him— _Sora, Sora, whole and safe and right there_ —had almost been enough to dull the blow. Almost. Sora, oblivious to the way Riku felt as if he’d been struck by a Blizzaga spell directly to the chest, had smiled down at him through the fall of his hair and reached out a hand to help him up. Riku took it. Warm, solid, real; he’d been hauled to his feet and Sora had taken a few quick steps back, apologizing with one hand at the back of his head and a sheepish grin, exactly the way he always did when he was embarrassed.

“I’m Riku.”

“Riku,” Sora repeated and then smiled, like the smile should follow Riku’s name naturally. And maybe he should have played along, but pretending he didn’t know someone who’d been at his side nearly all his life was a step that Riku wasn’t prepared to take.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Sora’s eyes went wide. “You have?”

“Yeah. Yes, we know each other. We grew up together on Destiny Islands.”

“Oh.” His eyes darted around the nearly empty streets. For a moment, Sora looked utterly lost; but it was replaced quickly by a wide grin. “Right! Destiny Islands! Uh, how have you been?”

“Sora, you don’t have to pretend.”

The grin faded, replaced with a look of relief. Sora scrutinized him for long seconds, then asked, “You really know me?”

So he’d told him stories—about Destiny Islands and how their playtime adventures as children had become _real_ adventures. He tried to tell Sora’s own story as best he knew it. That first night they’d walked and walked, Sora carrying the skateboard until it got too heavy and shoving it at Riku, the both of them trading it back and forth as time went on. Initially, Sora had said he was meeting his school friends to study, but he never mentioned it again. It was easy, so easy, to tell Sora stories of other worlds just the way they used to do as kids. Only this time, they were true.

He can’t recall how many nights it’s been, just that Sora is always waiting for him whenever Riku is pulled into the dream, the sun either setting or well past the horizon. Riku doesn’t consider himself the best storyteller, but Sora is definitely the best listener. He asks questions, eyes bright and gaze far away. He is patient and quiet when Riku admits his own struggles with the darkness.

“When I get my memories back,” Sora says now, leaning back to look at the sky. “Then I’ll know if you’re lying or not.”

“Yeah, and you’ll owe me an ice cream sundae with extra cherries.”

“Is that a bet?”

“Yep.”

“You’re on!”

* * *

There comes a point in every visit where Sora announces that he should head home. They always part ways—Sora never invites him over, and Riku never suggests it. Alone, Riku will wander the streets until, eventually, he wakes up in bed as with any other dream. From one moment to the next, from the darkened city lit with street lamps and shop lights and neon signs, to his bed at the Mysterious Tower.

But then, a night comes where Sora doesn’t leave. The sky is clear and the temperature pleasant, and he decides he wants to stargaze. Riku had told him about all the thousands of stars in the sky and how they used to try and count them as kids, how they’d make up stories about which ones were other worlds and what they might be like.

“Maybe we can see Destiny Islands from here,” Sora jokes, but when they look up, the stars are obscured by light pollution, and half their view of the sky is blocked by tall buildings.

They pick the tallest one then, and Riku bets Sora he can’t run up all the stairs and regrets it not halfway to the top. They’re both exhausted and breathless by the time they reach the rooftop, but they can see the stars a little better from up here. The view is nothing like back home, worse even than a lot of the other places Riku has been, but he catches Sora staring upward with his eyes shining in wonder.

“D’you think those really are worlds I’ve visited? I wish I could remember them...” Sora asks quietly.

“You will,” Riku says with conviction. “And when you come home, you can take me there to meet all your friends.”

“I hope so.”

They sit, losing their thoughts to the night sky. Sora, who rarely stays still for long, manages to shift himself closer to Riku’s side with every stretch of his arms or neck. Riku can feel himself freezing up, distracted now by Sora’s proximity, but he tries to keep his breaths slow and even.

But his careful composure is all for nothing the moment Sora’s head lands on Riku’s shoulder, and a shock not unlike a Thunder spell zips through his body. Sora is pressed against him thigh to shoulder, and it takes long moments for Riku to settle his mind. He concentrates on how warm and real Sora feels. He relaxes his shoulders and chances a glance downward, almost afraid that Sora might be looking back, but he’s not. In fact, Sora is asleep.

And a moment later, Riku wakes up.

* * *

The next time Riku dreams, Sora makes no mention of falling asleep on a rooftop, or of Riku not being there when he awoke. Riku finds him walking along the main street filled with shops, looking in all the windows. His skateboard is nowhere to be seen for once, and soon after Riku arrives, Sora spots him on the opposite side of a crosswalk. They wait for the signal to allow them to cross and then meet in the middle.

“Hey!” Sora greets, tugging at the hem of Riku’s jacket to get him to walk back the way Sora had just come.

“Hey.”

“I thought I saw an arcade but I can’t find it anymore. We should look for it!”

But they don’t make it very far before the rumble of thunder sounds from overhead and the skies open up. Rain falls in heavy, fat droplets that give way to a sheet of water. They run, Sora laughing brightly even as his hair and clothes get soaked, Riku a half step behind him. They crowd up under a shop awning.

“Hold this,” Sora says, thrusting his backpack at Riku and instructing him to hold it up by the straps while he rifles through the contents. Riku peers down past the top of Sora’s head to look. There are some notebooks in there, but the pencils are all rolling loose at the bottom along with an umbrella, apparently, which Sora tugs out from beneath a textbook with an _ah-hah!,_ brandishing it with a grin. “See? I’m always prepared!”

“Sure, but why don’t I ever see you do your homework?”

Sora rolls his eyes. “Homework. Whatever.”

“I’m serious! What are you even studying? Didn’t you say your friends go to cram school?”

“If you’re gonna make fun of me then I’m not sharing my umbrella.”

“I’ll help if you want,” Riku offers, zipping the backpack closed.

He’d only been back to school briefly during the short time they’d spent at home before being called in for their Mark of Mastery exam. It feels like it happened a lifetime ago: a strange pocket of time where Riku’s body somehow felt less like his own than it had before Ansem, where he met Sora not for a dream stroll through a darkened city, but for a bright morning walk to school.

Something about Sora back then reminds him of Sora now. The way he walked too close. The way he knew instinctively when to stay silent and when to fill the silence with chatter. The way they caught each other’s glances too often for it to be coincidence.

“I don’t need your help, _Ri-ku,_ ” Sora says without any heat, grabbing for his backpack. Riku twists a little, pulling it out of reach, and Sora tries to duck under his arm.

“Hmmm, I’ll believe that when I see your marks.”

Despite the noise of indignation that Sora makes at that, he is grinning. Riku finds himself matching the smile, and when Sora’s fingers finally catch at the canvas bag, they’re twisted so close that Riku can feel his breath on his neck when he laughs.

The dusting of pink that settles over Sora’s cheeks is definitely not something he can blame on the chill of the rain. Riku releases the bag, taking a long step backward that he hopes looks natural.

“Riku. You and me... what are we?”

Riku blinks. “We’re friends. Best friends.”

Sora gives a doubtful hum. “But there’s more, right?”

“More?” Has Riku let his guard down that much? He thinks back over the course of their shared dreams, but the memories blur together to a point where he might accidentally wake up if he tries to untangle them. He knows he is more relaxed here. In the waking world there’s a weight that drapes itself across his shoulders, but here, with Sora, it lifts clean away. But isn’t it supposed to be this way? Ever since he and Sora had found themselves on the shore of the dark margin, Riku has known the light that buoys his heart when they’re together. Even still, his actions had never given him away before.

Sora’s carefree smile returns. “Yeah! I can feel it. Riku, when you’re here, everything makes _sense_. Even all that stuff you say about my past and the Heartless and the Nobodies—which is _very_ confusing, by the way—isn’t scary. My friends here are great, but I don’t feel the same around them. So, we’re best friends, but isn’t there something else?”

“A lot has happened in the past couple of years. I... I’ve done some things. You have too. We’re connected.”

“That’s what I mean. I’m just trying to say that it’s okay! I get it. If you wanted to... I mean, I wouldn’t mind being a little. Closer.”

There’s a long silence, punctuated only by the distant thunder, rain falling heavily onto the plastic awning above them.

“We’re just friends,” Riku says, so quietly that he’s surprised Sora can hear him at all. It feels like the rain is filling him up on the inside, weighing his feet to the ground. Sora moves to stand in front of him, catching his eye, never one to let Riku get away with hiding for long.

“Riku, what I’m trying to say is that I lo—”

 _“Don’t._ Sora. Please, don’t.”

“Why? It’s true!”

Riku feels his heart stop, his palms suddenly sweaty. This is everything he’s ever dared to wish for. Sora, here, saying he _loves_ him... Yet instead of the happy moment this should be, Riku is filled with apprehension.

Without his memories, could Sora really believe this? He’s still Sora, no matter what, but all Sora has here in this dream is an empty city and friends that aren’t real. Riku is the only real thing for Sora to hold on to right now, so of course he would say this. No matter how much his heart yearns, Riku knows he can’t accept this.

“Sora, you don’t have all of your memories. If you did—when you do— you’ll understand.”

“I don’t need memories for this,” Sora insists. He curls a hand over his chest. “I _feel_ it, Riku. I know it in my heart.”

Riku can’t see Sora’s eyes with his head bowed, but he can hear the confidence and sincerity in his voice. A tone Riku recognizes from those too-quick days before the final battle, a Sora so ready to fight with all he had and being told it wasn’t enough. Riku had shown his belief in Sora then; he should be able to do the same now.

“Sora...” Some of that old heaviness returns. “Your heart wouldn’t lie to you. But there’s more to your life than just this dream. You’ll see.”

“No. _You’ll_ see. You will!” Sora lifts his head and his enthusiasm returns, lightning quick. “Once I get all my memories back, I’ll prove how I feel. That’s a promise.”

Bright, wide smile, but Riku has known Sora all his life and can see the cracks in his façade. He can’t make Sora any promises, he can’t even bolster his resolve. He curls his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out, from taking that shining face in his hands and smoothing over all the hurt he’s just caused. He can make a thousand vows to protect Sora from harm, but he can’t protect him from this.

The dream shifts and shimmers before Riku can think of a response. He wakes up with his hands still balled into fists, the purple dusk light streaming in through the Tower’s window, a heaviness across his shoulders, weighing him down.

* * *

The following night, Riku shifts in and out of a doze for hours. On nights like these he wishes he were back on the Destiny Islands, where he could wander the shore with cool sand under his feet and a warm breeze tugging at his hair until the night turned grey, and he could return home only to fall asleep as the sun rose. At least those few restful hours would have been better than this, here where the sky never gets dark and the Tower’s magic feels like a worried mother, fretting and fussing but never really helping.

And then, moments after Riku’s head hits the pillow after flipping it to seek out the cool side, he is _yanked_ down into sleep so fast it makes his head dizzy and his feet unsteady when they land on the now-familiar paved sidewalk. Has Sora called him here? He expects to find him nearby, but there’s nobody, not even the shadowed and distant night goers he’s come to expect.

Riku wanders their usual haunts, boots heavy, the sense of being watched returned, the way it always felt during those long months before Fairy Godmother had come to tell him this dream was important. Maybe this isn’t Sora’s dream at all. Maybe these are Riku’s own sleeping thoughts trying to show him that the price of denying Sora’s feelings is as bad— worse, even—as he’s ever imagined the aftermath of Sora rejecting _him_.

Then he sees Sora’s backpack lying in a heap in the center of one of the narrow corridors between buildings, half-opened, notebooks spilling out onto the pavement.

“Sora? Sora!” Riku strains to listen over the sound of his heart thundering in his ears, but there’s no reply. He jogs to the end of the corridor and emerges onto another empty street, following the path his feet take him without much thought. _Sora, where are you?_

A familiar cry comes as if in answer, but it’s hardly welcome. Braveheart appears in his hand in an instant and he runs toward the sound—there, just down another corridor, is an agitated group of Nightmares—Pandas and Yoggy Rams, Pricklemanes and Wheeflowers. In the center of them, his back to the wall, is Sora, holding one broken half of his skateboard and brandishing it like he would a keyblade.

“Sora!” Riku calls again, banishing a few of the Nightmares with Braveheart. They aren’t strong, and it’s short work to clear a path. “Your keyblade!”

“M—my... what?” His eyes are lined in red, wet with unshed tears as he looks from Riku down to Braveheart and back again. A Yoggy Ram charges, and Riku aims a barrier at Sora before he becomes lost in the battle. They may not be strong, but it’s as if his very presence draws them in, one after the other; he prioritizes his magic stores to keep Sora safe behind barrier after barrier, and physical attacks alone are slowing him down.

Then comes a familiar _kree!_ and Riku’s favorite Komory Bat comes sweeping through, lifting Riku’s spirits with its bright colors and strengthening spirit. Together they make short work of the remaining Nightmares.

Once the last of them fades, he finds Sora slumped against the wall, gripping the broken skateboard so tightly that Riku has difficulty prying it from his hands.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? _Cure_.”

Riku sighs in relief when Sora nods, shivering a little in the green wash of magic. “I’m sorry, they don’t usually… I—I mean there aren’t usually so many, ‘n I didn’t think they’d come if you were here... I thought you wouldn’t come. _Riku_ , I’m so sorry—”

“Hold on, Sora. Are you saying these aren’t the first Nightmares?”

“Is that what they are?”

“Yeah.” Komory Bat comes to settle against Riku’s shoulder, trilling softly. “You haven’t seen any like this, have you? The bright ones are friendly.”

“No,” Sora says, even after a particularly wiggly Meow Wow squeezes between them and pushes onto Sora’s lap, eyes downturned in distress. Sora holds Meow Wow’s round cheeks between his hands, looking somber.

“These are Spirits, Dream Eaters. They protect us. You and I helped protect the sleeping worlds once, and they’re our friends now.”

“Me and you? Together?”

“Well… sort of. Mostly.”

A smile wavers onto Sora’s face. “You looked really cool, Riku.”

He laughs. “You always say that.”

“I do?”

“If you had your keyblade, you would have fought them too.”

Sora looks back down at Meow Wow, petting his cheeks. “I thought they were the Heartless. Those nightmare things.”

“No, the Heartless can’t exist in the sleeping realm. But the Nightmares can appear when you’re dreaming.

“Dreaming...” Sora repeats, slowly and under his breath. For the briefest instant, their surroundings flicker like a candle flame. “And you’re in my dream?”

Riku nods once. At first, Sora looks like he’s about to accept this the same way he’s accepted all of Riku’s other stories, but with the Nightmares gone, the Dream Eaters can’t stay for long. Komory Bat nudges at Riku’s cheek before dematerializing, and Riku watches as the Meow Wow follows suit, leaving Sora’s hands empty. His expression crumbles. Again, their surroundings flicker in quick waves that leave Riku dizzy. He rests a hand gently on one of Sora’s knees to steady himself.

“Riku,” Sora says, hushed and broken. “I don’t know what this city is called. I don’t know what my classes are or where my school is. I can’t remember my friends’ names. I don’t even think I know what they look like. I think... I think I’m alone.”

He lifts his face, searches Riku’s eyes for confirmation. He should say something, comfort Sora somehow; all he has is a heart full of devotion and no words to express it. When Sora begins crying in earnest, Riku moves his hand from Sora’s knee to his shoulder, inching a little towards his neck. Sora leans forward with a sob.

“Hey,” Riku tries, rubbing the pads of his fingers down the back of Sora’s neck. “Hey, come on, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

“I’m—Sorry, I—” The street below glows for a moment; there’s distant roaring in Riku’s ears as their surroundings shake and crumble, revealing a backdrop of inky blackness. “ _Riku_. I wanted you to be real.”

“I am. I’m here. I’m like the spirits, I’m a Dream Eater, too. I’m _your_ Dream Eater, Sora.”

Sora gasps, and everything stops.

Riku leans back on his heels and looks around. He knows this. He’s been here before. At his feet, smooth, colorful glass; the image of Sora at fourteen, looking impossibly young, but serene and sure. The last time Riku was here, he’d been fighting to wake Sora. Is that what he needs to do now?

“What is that?” Sora asks, strangely calm. Riku twists, following Sora’s gaze; behind them is a… door? It’s shaped like an archway, made of sharp facets like ice or crystal, glittering a soft blue hue. Before Riku can answer, Sora pushes himself to his feet; he reaches a hand down to Riku, eyes trained on the door. Riku takes his hand, allowing Sora to help him up.

“It’s locked,” Sora says, mouth drawn into a frown. “Riku. I think you’ve got a key.”

Riku takes in a sharp breath. “Sora, wait, we don’t know what this is.” “What if my memories are... locked away?” He looks up. “Please. We have to try.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

It’s one of those moments where Riku can only ask his heart to do what’s best. Riku calls Braveheart and points it at the door, the keychain clinking softly with the movement. With a deep breath, he steps one foot forward determinedly, joining his hands together on the hilt and twisting sharply.

The door opens.

Instantly Sora buckles forward with a strangled yell, clutching at the sides of his head. A sudden wind pulls at their clothes, at their hair, buffeting Riku backward as he tries to reach for Sora; the platform emanates a bright glow that he’s forced to shield his eyes from.

When the wind stops, Sora is on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. His school outfit is gone, the frame of his dream having lost its hold, and he looks now just the same as he did that day in the Keyblade Graveyard.

“Sora!”

Riku drops in front of him, but Sora’s head is bowed. Riku flexes his hands and curls his fingers into his palm once, twice; if he reaches for Sora, will the platform pull him down to the abyss? Or this time, will it be some place Riku can’t follow?

But Sora lifts his tear-stained face and reaches first.

 _“Riku,”_ Sora sobs, his shaking hand finding its way up to Riku’s shoulder, and when their eyes meet, he knows.

“Yeah,” Riku says, reaching back. With his arm around Sora’s shoulders, they’re close enough for Sora to bury his face in Riku’s chest, his other hand coming up to grip his shirt. “Hey, Sora.”

He cries harder. There’s nothing Riku can do but gather him close, Sora trembling as he cries, fingers twisting into Riku’s clothes. Riku is quiet while he pulls himself together. Eventually, Sora straightens out of the embrace to rub his sleeve across his eyes, pausing to stare for a moment at his bracer. Then he smiles sheepishly at Riku. “Sorry.”

“You... Do you...” Riku shakes his head and tries again. “Your memories were locked behind that door, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, I... Riku! Kairi? Tell me she’s okay, she has to be okay!”

“She’s good, she’s safe. She’s looking for you.” There’s more to be said, but Sora is pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, chest hitching as he no doubt tries to reconcile all that’s happened in the last five minutes.

He drifts closer to Riku again, unfurls his arms and wraps them around Riku’s shoulders instead, clinging tightly. _Small_ , Riku thinks, _but so strong_. “You shouldn’t have to be here. You’re supposed to be safe!”

“Sora. This is not your fault. We all want you home safe too, where you belong. Okay?”

There’s no response. Eventually, Sora stands and Riku follows suit, one hand hovering uncertainly, ready to catch him should he stumble. Sora finds his feet, though, and begins a somewhat perfunctory examination of his clothing and the contents of his pockets. Suddenly he pauses, then lifts a hand slowly to his chest, curling his fingers around his crown pendant. When Sora raises his head and their eyes meet, Riku’s heart stutters in his chest at the intensity of his expression.

“Hey, Riku? I think I forgot something _really_ important. But I remember it now.” Sora’s eyes are shining, but he’s smiling through his tears. He has half a mind to ask Sora what he means, but then more tears spill over, and he pushes his own feelings down. Riku wants nothing more than to sit down and _talk_ , but there’s more to be done, first.

“How do you feel?”

“Huh?”

“With your memories back?”

“Well, I guess... I’m already asleep, right? So—Oh! Let’s see.” Sora holds out his right hand and, with a familiar flash of light, Kingdom Key materializes. He grins at Riku excitedly for a brief moment before his face falls. The keyblade is dismissed, leaving Sora staring at his empty hand. “ _Oh_.”

“Sora?”

“There was someone else there. In the land of sea and sky,” he says, voice grave.

“In the Final World?”

“You know it?”

“Yeah. No, I mean, Chirithy told us. Who else was there?” Riku’s own skin prickles with the sense of being watched, as if in answer to his own question.

“It’s hard to explain, um, tell them... tell Donald and Goofy that it was Yozora.”

“Find Yozora. Got it.”

It’s a start. Riku looks at Sora, so close to him now and so far away at once. Sora’s eyes rove his face, as if he’s trying to memorize this moment, too.

“Guess I gotta wake up now, huh.”

“Yeah. Hey, I learned a few new tricks. I won’t be far.”

“Just a dream away?”

Riku laughs. “Something like that.”

Riku readies himself for what he knows is coming next. When Sora’s heart awakens, so will he, but there’s no celebration to be had. Just more searching.

Sora must be thinking the same, because he sighs, heavy. “I hate this.”

“I know. Me too. But Sora, wherever you are, I’ll be there too.”

“You’re right.” Sora nods, pumping his fist at his side in determination. He tilts his head back, a purple light illuminating his face, playing with the shadows over his smile. Riku follows his gaze, dizzy at the sight of his own heart station watching over them. “ _Trace the connection._ You’re always with me.”

“Yeah,” Riku agrees, throat tight. If Sora can be brave enough to wake up alone against an unknown enemy, then Riku can be brave enough to let him go just one more time. He steps into the gap between them and closes his hand around the crown pendant, ever-present, metal smooth against his palm. “We’ll find a way to bring you home, and then we’ll be together. It’s not a promise. It’s a vow.”

“Riku...” Sora’s hand comes up to cover Riku’s, fingers slotted over his knuckles. “Can I say it now?”

Riku can only nod.

Sora beams. “Okay. I love you.”

Riku untangles their fingers in favor of smoothing Sora’s fringe off his forehead, swaying forward to press a lingering kiss there. He stands like that until he’s sure he can breathe properly again, then takes two long steps back, calling Braveheart back into his hand.

“Ready?”

A nod. “I’ll see you soon.”

Riku lifts the keyblade, calling upon the power of waking that he knows is inside of him for just this purpose. His aim is true, and the light shimmers, brilliant.

They wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the pleasure of writing this as part of the Re⊕Collect zine. Huge thanks to mods greeneggs101 and kei for their hard work, and to Anna for invaluable help as beta! Be sure to check out the other fics in this collection and leave feedback for the authors and artists.
> 
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! You can follow me on twitter @hello_deer.


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